Violent Grace
by frankiewode
Summary: Five years. This number holds a certain importance in the Fujioka family and the Shadow King might just hold the key in repeating the pattern. The Prince and the Pauper... the fifth year... the last celebration


Violent Grace

**A/N: **Ok so I don't really have much to say here except, I wrote this MONTHS ago and never got around to posting it ^^' heh. But it was a story I did for some English coursework. That is actually part of the reason for the title - Violent Grace. I changed the names to hand it in and Grace was Haruhi's name and I kinda liked it.  
For the record I also named:  
Tamaki: Hayden (means the rosy meadow)  
Kyoya: Regan (means Kings Heir)  
Haruhi: Grace (means grace of god) I sort of thought that these names fit them, don't you think? Even Haruhi's in an ironic way. :)

_Disclaimer: I do not own Ouran High School Host Club. It belongs to Bisco Hatori_

_---_

She remembered the day clearly. It had been cloudy and a storm was inevitable, that she knew. But the despair she would feel when the lightening hit had not even occurred to her. Yes her mother was sick, she knew that too. But the fact that she could someday be cruelly taken from her was not a prospect she had considered. Every day as Haruhi would come bounding into the dismal room, instantly brightening it; her mother would lie in bed and patiently listen to her daily tales. No matter how insignificant they were. Though her hair had grown lank and her frame had become skinny, her mother's eyes would always sparkle and a gentle smile would tug at her lips. That's how Haruhi remembered her; that gentle smile would haunt her dreams even now.

She had still come bounding into the room that day, though the weather embodied harshness. But the bed was made and empty. Her father lay beside the bed muttering incoherently and tugging at the ruffled sheets. As he saw his daughter standing in the doorway, he started to sob. She spotted the tear tracks on his face; it had not been the first time he had cried that day. _"Haruhi..."_ she had almost burst into tears right there. But she wasn't certain yet.  
_"Am I ever going to see mommy again_?"

The silence was not what she had hoped for. So she burst into tears. She hadn't seen her mother the day she died. But after that day she would just remember that warm gentle smile.

Haruhi was only five; barely. The day that marked her birth had also marked her mother's death.

The sky roared and that smile entered her thoughts as she slowly became limp in his arms; she was succumbing to slumber. His skin was freezing against hers and it felt like all the warmth in her body was leaving her. The man holding her was breathing heavily but he didn't let go, he just continued to grasp her tightly. Her head suddenly fell forward and her long brown hair concealed her features. The man still didn't move. He carefully tucked a chocolate wisp of hair behind her ear and stared at her fragile face. She moaned and it was then that he shifted his position. She became silent.

The pale skin was soft underneath his touch as he ran a finger along the bone of her jaw. Perfect. She was always perfect. Even in a boys uniform... she was perfect. She murmured and clutched his shirt as she cried out in anguish. He increased the grip on her forehead and noticed an intolerable heat emitting from her. Another cry; she must have been having a nightmare... This was at least what he consoled himself with.

She was drifting away and slowly her breathing became quiet. He smiled. She looked so peaceful in slumber. "I love you." She didn't reply to his whisper and he was glad. He didn't need her rejection again.

He remembered the first day she walked through those golden gilded doors. A new student to the school, an interest to everyone; even to him, though he never would have shown it. She was just 15 years old then, and the ten years since had changed her dramatically. But she was still Haruhi... no matter how much she had 'blossomed.' She had always been Haruhi though the name of 'spring day' could not have been less suiting. In fact her stubborn personality and unflappable attitude had been refreshing and she had been welcomed and they had been a trio the three of them; Haruhi, Tamaki and himself; the Prince the Pauper and the King. And now that the pauper had become a princess, the king had since been left in the shadows.

He had sat quietly on the sidelines for his whole life. This had not been idle observation as he always had a plan, always had some sort of function to whatever action he would take. But with her... he had just stood in the corner and let her go. He knew the most about her, he was certain. While others would showily parade her around in a garish manner, he would always observe and stick to the background. The Prince, the Princess and... and the Shadow King were what they were.

The thunder shook again and she let out a faint whimper. He brought her closer and rested her head upon his shoulder. This was the last time he would ever hold her, of that he was certain. She didn't belong to him. He suddenly felt very angry and tightened his grip, the flesh underneath his fingers becoming white with the pressure.

At last she was silent and he withdrew from her. His legs ached as he stretched and then stood before her and took in her image one last time. The chocolate coloured hair was now spread across the sheets and wisps of it stuck to her forehead in sweat. Her clothes were bedraggled and torn in several places. His arm grew heavy and he lifted the item he held in his right hand to peer at his reflection; but it was covered in a painfully real substance. The blade glistened red with her blood, matching the pool of liquid soaking into the bedspread.

He laughed manically, his problem was over. She was dead. _Finally._ But then he adopted a sombre expression and a chill ran throughout his body. "I love you." He whispered again and a silent tear ran down his face.

Suddenly the door slammed open and a blonde figure sprang in, humming joyfully. He was tall, the blonde and his state of joviality was evident. The humming died. The blade clattered to the floor as the blonde dropped a package. He was now staring at him in shock. The weapon and the body into which it had been thrust had not even registered in his mind yet. All his thoughts were focused on the image of his best friend crying in his bedroom. What happened next was so sudden Tamaki could barely believe it was true. He suddenly rushed over to Kyoya, concern crossing his features and then without warning found himself thrown to the floor. Perplexed, he leant up to grasp the object over which he had tripped and gazed at it with horror. A blade; covered in blood. His mouth gaped wide as he turned towards his friend. Kyoyas expression was one of uncertainty, one Tamaki himself had never seen before.

Kyoya tried to grab the blade but Tamaki sent it flying across the room. His gaze was still one of confusion, but it held in itself hints of hostility and belligerence. "What?" He diffidently questioned. "Where's Haruhi?" And then his gaze dropped to the lifeless heap of tangled limbs on the bed. "No..." The blood soaked from her pale dress to the satin bedspread and her soulless eyes stared back at him. Emptiness... His voice was now hoarse and the sight before him tugged at his heart, weighing it down heavily. He found himself unable to speak but if he could he had no words to express. Nothing could explain the agony of the situation; nothing would help to heal his open wounds. No narrow form of communication would bring her back.

He stared for what seemed like hours, hardly bearing to see her body in death. He didn't trust his eyes. They lied to him, he thought and he dropped to the floor instantly to crawl over to her. Each movement was accompanied with a heart-wrenching sob; they enveloped him with curdling cries of raw emotion. "Haruhi..." Clambering over to her he touched her face, her hair, her hands looking for something to convince him she was alive; that there was a chance. But almost seconds later he deflated onto the bed next to her. There was none. He had felt for her pulse desperately but... there was none.

He lifted a finger to caress her flawless skin and cringed when he felt the heat still radiating from her. No... He couldn't bear to think, if he had just been a few minutes earlier... Burying his head into the nape of her neck he endlessly twirled a lock of her hair around his finger. And then repeated the process. He couldn't do anything but gaze at that perfect lock of hair. It's was so long; the one difference from her days as a host. She made excuses, saying that it was easier to handle, that she could tie it back while working but he knew that she loved the way it would gently graze her shoulder. And he loved the way he would wrap her silky tresses around his finger, just as he was doing now.

He closed his eyes for a second and let out another yell. But it didn't make a difference. It didn't bring her back and nor did it relieve his anger towards Kyoya.

His head snapped upwards and he could see the dark-haired man staring down at the fallen blade. The blonde tried to ignore the fragile body next to him and focus all his efforts on the man but anguish still tugged at his heart. For now, he decided, he would ignore it. He had to avenge her in some way. He had been betrayed by the one closest to him, and he needed answers.

In an instant Tamaki leaped off the bed, grabbed the dripping blade and held it up against his best friend's face. Kyoya didn't struggle and in fact welcomed the violence with a strained but still arrogant smirk. "WHY!" The blonde screamed tragically. "Wha-what could she ever do to deserve..." He glanced back at her body and gasped, the words catching in his throat. The next word was released with a strangled sob. "This..." With tears still streaming down his face his expression changed to one of anger again and he tightened his grasp on Kyoyas shirt and shook him; shook him with all the strength he could muster. "WHY?" The blade slightly cut into the pale skin of the traitor and blood trickled down his cheek. He grunted in pain and his eyes narrowed. _How could this fool not understand?_

"I did it for you." He hissed trying to ignore the agonising pain he endured. "I did it for everyone."

"WHY?" Tamaki screamed again, pressing the blade further into his skin. He was almost hysterical now. "WHY?" His eyes were crazed and he was suddenly capable of anything.

Kyoya screamed out in pain again and tried to back away but the hold on him was strong. "You were always stronger than me Tamaki; physically at least." He gasped. Tamaki almost loosened his grip on his shirt in surprise. "You could beat me at any sport, any mundane vigorous activity..." Then he whispered and averted his gaze, "any romantic conquest..." He stared back into widened eyes and realised that the idiotic blonde still did not understand.

He started to yell, "But I was stronger mentally. I knew what our goals were; I knew how to achieve them. I knew what was best for us!" Tamaki now completely lost, released his grip on Kyoya but still held the blade to his face.

"I don't know what you mean..." He uttered dejectedly and the dark-haired Ootori narrowed his eyes again.

"Of course you don't." He sneered and then cried out again as Tamaki again increased pressure on the blade. "You don't even care!" The blood almost poured down his face now and the pain was unbearable. "You almost lost the chance to be heir to the Suoh Company but you NEVER cared! It was precarious, the situation and I was the one who was made to ensure your position as heir." He roared and lifted a hand to his cheek; it came away with a sticky red substance; but he didn't care anymore... "It was her fault. She almost ruined EVERYTHING I have worked for!"

"Wha-"

"She distracted you Tamaki! And she distracted me. We strayed from our goals. We could have been so successful but... I lost out." Tamaki was still urgently pressing the blade against his cheek while the tears still rolled down his face. He spoke out in a meek quiet voice; not quite believing the reason he stated.

"Y-you did this because your father didn't name you as heir?" All respect for his friend was gone and the blonde had lost all feeling in his hands. The confusion almost numbed his pain and the blade clattered to the floor.

Kyoya sighed; almost disappointed at the absence of added pain. "No. I-I did it because she distracted us Tamaki." He closed his eyes and stuck to his initial comment. "We could have had everything, but because of her you didn't care... And I-I found myself..." He walked past the blonde and over to the bed where her corpse still lay. Gently he lifted a finger to trace her cheekbones. "...With conflicting emotions."

Tamaki enraged at Kyoyas perturbed actions, grabbed his arm to shove him against the wall. "WHAT ARE YOU SAYING KYOYA?" He cried out again. "Just... what are you saying?" He wanted it in simple terms. He already understood the intent but he just couldn't believe it. Not until it is confirmed.

A small whimper was heard and Tamaki lifted Kyoyas ruffled mop of hair to see a tear trickle down his face. But within a second he was as composed as ever. "I was in love with her." He stated plainly. "And that's why I had to kill her."

Silence; and then a strangled roar ensued as the blade was reclaimed and shoved towards Kyoyas stomach. The tip just pierced his trademark suit but it went no further. "Did you do this because you were jealous? Jealous that she loved me?" he growled and clenched his teeth. He had no mercy anymore. "If you hate the fact that she was my wife so much then just admit it! Don't pretend that this was for my benefit!"

Kyoya closed his eyes. He remembered it well. The day he had confessed his love for her had been dismal. The rain poured down his face as he explained his confusing attraction. A tinge of pink had touched her cheeks but he later discovered that it was due to the weather... not of a blush. But at the time he had been enticed and had leant in for a kiss; the biggest mistake of his life. Her brow had furrowed in annoyance and almost pity as she shoved him away in rejection... "_I'm engaged to Tamaki, your best friend. Or do you not remember? I could never be happy with someone who treats everyone around him like a profitable venture. I know you wouldn't do this if there weren't something to gain so just forget it ok." _Her teeth gently tugged at the soft skin of her lower lip. That had been harsh. "_Sorry Kyoya... but it's just how I feel."_

Kyoya Ootori was _never_ rejected; never refused. Resentment found a place in his heart that day and he grew cold and distant. He had never intended to receive her love and even if he had it would have never been expected. He simply could not be associated intimately with a girl of Haruhi' class. The prince and pauper story was intended only for enamoured fools – such as Tamaki – and was not feasible in the real world. He had just been so... infatuated with her. He couldn't concentrate on anything else. He would curse her beautiful face every-time it entered his dreams and his confession was only an outlet for his unusual emotions. A rejection was a certainty of course. But then why did it anger him so considerably when he received it? Why did he want to hurt her every-time he saw her kiss his best-friend? _I'm sorry Kyoya..._ Exactly a month later his older brother was named heir and Kyoya was left in the shadows. _I'm sorry... _The only thing left was revenge. _I'm... _She was married to Tamaki. They had been together since Haruhi's third year at Ouran and he had been best man to their wedding. _Another regret..._

The wedding was dismal also. The sun was shining on the brightest of summer days but to Kyoya, it was dismal. The bride happily smiled up at her new husband as they swirled around the ballroom for the first dance of the evening. She never smiled like that for anyone else he knew bitterly. She would never smile at him like that. Resentfully he had retreated to a far balcony and consumed all the alcohol he could acquire. It was the one night Kyoya had allowed himself to lose control. That's why he had permitted himself more than one glass; a lot more.

In the past five years he had made no accomplishments, no worthy achievements of any kind. Not since the rejection. For this reason he had visited the Suoh estate and entered the bed-chamber without invitation. _Kyoya-senpai?_ The nickname had stuck. He had stormed into the room and without a moment's hesitation thrust the blade into her skinny torso. The words had died in her mouth. He wanted no confrontation with her, nothing to change his mind; the decision was final. He didn't want those tawny eyes to convince him otherwise... to live another five years in agony. No questions and no answers, not from her.

"You'll never get away with this you know." Tamaki's voice woke him from his memories and he glanced curiously at the blonde's furious expression. "It doesn't matter how rich you are. _Murder_," he spat "is unforgivable." The blade travelled up towards his neck as a warning and then down again. "It doesn't matter what assets you obtain Kyoya. They aren't going to save you this time."

A look of horrified realisation dawned on Kyoyas face as he stared over Tamaki's shoulder at the brunette on the bed. "Oh god..."

"This is your doing Kyoya! What you have done!"

"I know..." The dark-haired Ootori then stared down at the glistening blade. "Well, are you not going to take your revenge Tamaki?"

Tamaki's eyes widened in surprise but he scoffed. His grip on the knife tightened and beads of sweat appeared on his forehead. He couldn't... "I wouldn't stoop to your level; no matter the reasons." He began to turn away but the blade he let go of hadn't moved. He manoeuvred his hand, feeling the weapon suspended in mid-air behind him. _Huh...?_ He turned abruptly and let out a yell of surprise. A vile red substance was pouring from Kyoyas mouth and he shuddered, falling to his knees. Blood was oozing at the point where the knife had pierced his skin. His face twitched with uncontrolled convulsions and his mouth was twisted, holding none of his former vigilance. He had walked into it. He had walked into his own blade. He let out a few more strangled gasps and fell forward on the plush carpet. There was a disturbing sound as the weapon was pushed even further through his body and Tamaki winced.

He tried to open his mouth but found he couldn't form the words. No form of communication could even begin to express the pit of despair he endured. Nothing could do the situation justice. Just a few hours ago he had been the happiest he had ever been. Today was their 5th Wedding Anniversary and they had spent the morning together with a plentiful breakfast. Rice and Miso soup had been enough for Haruhi but Tamaki had spiced up the affair with a French baguette, croissants, pancakes, sausages and fried eggs. Haruhi had just frowned and then laughed as she watched her husband attempt to consume the many different foods with a concentrated expression. After only an hour the kitchen had been abandoned and the pair had travelled across to the living room for a cosy afternoon. Tamaki had wanted to pull out the Kotatsu and Haruhi had yet again explained that it wasn't the correct season before reluctantly agreeing. He had pulled into her arms and adorned her face with kisses before slipping a thin piece of card into her grasp. "_A token to the carnival? This is what we are doing for our 5__th__ anniversary?" _He bit the inside of his lip nervously before seeing her slowly break into a beaming smile. "_It's perfect."_

It was perfect. He had planned it all down to the last little detail. They would enter the fairground in high spirits, feeling like a young teenage couple again and would take a ride on the Ferris wheel. Once situated at the top, it would stop - the ride operator was bribed easily – and he would pull out identical Ootoro rings. They were similar to the ones they both had previously treasured but were more refined and simple in taste. He had wanted to give Haruhi a diamond so badly, to reflect her beautiful soul, so he could treasure her even more. But her pride had kept her from even accepting an engagement ring, instead sticking to a plain wedding band at the ceremony. She did indeed have simple tastes. He knew this was the only way she would accept something of such high value from him – it meant a lot to both of them. And that's why it was _perfect..._

It had taken just 35 minutes to pick up the perfected Ootoro rings from the jewellers and he had sailed through the front door singing jubilantly. He pranced up the stairs and into the bedroom to find his beloved wife. And that's when he saw her mutilated remains on the satin sheets. The package had dropped from his hands onto the floor. That was when he realised his whole world had been taken from him.

She had been murdered by his best friend. Overwhelming guilt suddenly consumed him; then maybe if they had never met... she would still be alive. He thought back over the years and frowned. Just a few days ago he had accompanied Kyoya for dinner, with Haruhi. He had seemed completely normal; for Kyoya. There were no signs of any sort to suggest that his best friend would charge into his bedroom and murder his wife. There were no signs to suggest that he had been in love with her. Although... Kyoya had been slightly tipsy at the wedding. At the time he had disregarded the fact; this was completely natural at a wedding. But he should have paid more attention. Kyoya was never one to relinquish control; at least he never used to be. It had seemed that in just a few short hours he had let out all the emotion he had been bottling up for the past 10 years. He had finally lost control and had walked into his own blade.

Tamaki now stood in a room containing the corpses of his ex-best friend and his wife... _Haruhi_... She couldn't be dead. He was just imagining it before. _Yes..._ He would go to her side and he would feel a pulse and everything would be alright. But doubt and reality tugged at the pit of his stomach in a quiet reminder. _She's dead. He killed her. _It couldn't be true. She was a goddess in his eyes, his princess; and princesses didn't die.

In an agonising mass of tears he rushed back over to the bed and cradled her body in his arms, gently rocking it back and forth. "Please Haruhi, don't do this. Don't do this to me. Just wake up ok? I know it's been a long day and your probably tired but just wake up and just hold me. Tell me this isn't true..." Her tawny eyes remained closed and he became distraught, frantically searching for a heartbeat where he knew there was none. "Open your eyes Haruhi; I can't live without you... Don't..." He let out a low moan and collapsed on top of her, unconscious of the blood she was drenched in. "I've still got the tickets Haruhi. Please wake up so we can go... please." Her forehead was cold and clammy against his own. "Haruhi..." He felt her pulse again. Nothing. "Please..." Again... and nothing. _"Please."_

A small voice roused him from his denial.

"Daddy?"

He froze.

Slowly he inched his gaze towards the sound. A little girl of five years stood in the doorway, the lambent moonlight illuminating her pale face. She had chin-length dark coffee brown hair and ivory skin. Her eyes were huge and innocent and the only physical aspect of Tamaki she had inherited was the violet shine of her orbs. She was the splitting image of her mother. Again a tear trickled down his face. She was wearing a pink playsuit adorned with strawberries and teddies and she clutched in her right hand an overstuffed suitcase. "Hina-kie... You're back from your sleepover?"

Timidly she nodded and gingerly surveyed the room. Tamaki's blood ran cold. Kyoyas body was hidden from view, crumpled in the corner but his daughters gaze was suddenly trained on him and his dead wife beneath him. Her little brows scrunched up in confusion but before she had time to form the words, he had rushed off the bed, scooped her up into his arms and brought her out into the corridor. She dropped her suitcase by the tiny black wrapped package.

"Daddy, what's wrong with mommy? Is she sleeping?" The little girl cocked her head and sent her father into reams of tears. Her eyes grew wide as she saw blood splashed across his shirt. "Daddy..." His face lost all colour and he tried to hide the gaudy stains.

"Little Hina-chan," he gasped with the tears still streaming down his cheek. He couldn't stop them now. "Your mother is extremely tired, she and daddy have spent all day making a special jam cake for you, and well, silly daddy," he tried to laugh through the tears. "Well I guess I was a bit clumsy with the jam" He pointed to his shirt to validate his story. It felt creepy in a way, but he did not want his daughter to be exposed to this, to be so violently involved in its sick lucidity.

Her eyes were still wide but she nodded obediently, for now. "I just need to get my bag daddy, I won't wake mommy up." She began to walk towards the door but was held back by strong arms.

NO!" Shocked she twirled to meet his frantic face. It presented unrefined pure depression. The emotion was raw and Hina-Kie wanted to cry with her father, she could see his face was still stained with tears. "Don't go in there Hina-chan, daddy will get it for it. Bravely he braced himself, and he nipped his lip with anxious shudders. "Ok..."

Hina-Kie felt herself reaching for his arm tenderly. "Don't go daddy, stay with me." She suddenly felt afraid of the room, worried to wonder why her father was so adversely affected by it. Something was wrong, this much she knew and it involved her mother. To remain oblivious was fine for now.

Tamaki took her into his arms and closed his eyes. He lifted her up and rested her against his shoulder, her hair was soft underneath his touch and her tiny tears trickled down his neck. He couldn't take it anymore. He leant his back against the wall and slowly fell to the floor finally releasing his full distraught feelings. His cries echoed through the house and his daughter listened, the only evidence of her despair forming damp patches in her father's shirt. Her tears were silent. Tamaki held her tighter, unable to retrain himself from the unadulterated emotion that quite venomously poured from his heart. He cried into his daughter hair, as soft as her mothers, and clung to her as if she was the last thing left. She was to him. She was the only human embodiment he now had of his dearly loved wife. And he wasn't going to lose her also.

"Daddy," He lifted his matted mop of blonde hair just enough to listen to her intently. "Am I ever going to see mommy again?" Her gaze was lowered to the floor. The air was silent for several moments as Tamaki mournfully considered the question.

"No Hina-Kie."

No words were spoken afterwards. Hina-Kie buried her face into his neck and his shirt became damp again. They spent the remainder of the day in silence, never more than a few inches apart. The only thing to keep them both going was the shared suffering between them. The police arrived at the house in the evening, but Tamaki was too distraught to provide a statement. The haunted room spoke enough for itself.

The Ootoro rings were buried with Haruhi; one of them at least. Tamaki and Hina-Kie kept the other to remind themselves of her. They had stood side by side while the ceremony took place and picked at their black garments. It was the first time they had ever worn black; both of them.

Long after the funeral, after all accusations were dropped and even when the pair were finally left in peace, the bedchamber which had once housed many happy memories still lay empty. It sat, isolated from the rest of the house, gathering dust alone. Neither wanted to relive the memory of their tragic pasts, thus it never again encountered another soul within its walls. Not under the Suoh name.

Haruhi lost her mother when she was only five years old. But unknowingly she had passed on the same fate to her daughter.

Hina-Kie was only five years old...

---

**A/N:** Kyoya seems to die in pretty much ALL of my Ouran fics... I swear I have nothing against him . So anyway sorry for any mistakes! But yeah, slightly morbid I know but hopefully you guys will like it and review! There are quite a few paragraphs I would re-write if I had the time but... I really really don't ^^'


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